Connection
by MizuxHime
Summary: Mark's visibly emo, Roger's there to pick up the pieces. A spark files. MarkRoger, PostRENT, OneShot.


Connection

**Fandom:** RENT  
**Pairing: **Mark/Roger  
**Timeline:** PostRENT  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.  
**A/N:** I have one thing to say, and it's to quote an icon. "For Mimi, Roger lights a candle. For Mark, Roger lights a whole damn bonfire" :x. Oh, slightly OOC on both Roger and Mark's part. I dunno.. blame it on time?

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"Holy shit. Mark, without a camera!?"

Roger laughed a bit as he looked up at the door to the Life Café as Mark rushed in, a now dripping wet newspaper coming down from over his head. Mark rolled his blue eyes and ran a hand through his blonde, or red as Roger argued, hair to shake out the water he had tried to prevent from attacking him. He sat down across from the former rockstar and felt his own witty, yet cold, reply slip from his lips.

"Holy shit. Roger, out of the loft?" he said, unsually bitter.

Roger blinked, taken off guard by that. Mimi had died just six months eariler, and Roger had delt with it harder than he had delt with April's death. He had figured it was because Mimi didn't up and kill herself over her sickness. She embraced it. Helped Roger to move on. It took a lot for him to start going out again, as he was convinced that he wasn't going to find anyone new. He was now the one they talked about having little time left. After a moment he pulled his thoughts away from himself and onto the filmmaker. Something was wrong with him. Something he didn't know, and that killed him. Mark told Roger everything.

"...what's wrong?" Roger said softly.

"It's not like you care..." Mark said.

Again, the words stung Roger. "Um, when have I ever given you a reason to say that I don't care? I was just playing around," Roger snapped back.

Mark now sighed and just looked out the window into the pouring rain, obvious hurt and pain on his face. Then it clicked for Roger. He sighed as well and reached out to take Mark's hand that was laying clenched in a fist on the table and looked to him with concern.

"What. Happened. Tell me..." Roger said, pushing each word out with the same intensity. To prove he did care and wanted to know what was troubling his roommate.

"Claire dumped me," Mark said tearing his eyes away from the window.

"She did? When?!" Roger said, surprised that Mark had withheld information from him. "I thought you two were--"

"She dumped me last month. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't need the both of us to be depressed," Mark explained and raised a finger before Roger could ask more questions. "That's not the reason I'm upset. It was because.. I saw her with another guy. She had been cheating on me from the start. She was using me to get her boyfriend jealous, and she was fucking him every other night." He sighed. "She thought I was so nice, which was why she didn't leave me after she had gotten her boyfriend pissed."

Roger now didn't have anything to say. Mark didn't deserve this, he was a good guy. A sweet guy. Hell, Roger would even go as far to admit that he was pretty damn good looking. He knew that Mark's confidence just flew south for the winter and was never going to come back. Roger knew he'd try and say the same things when Maureen had dumped him. "_She's a slut. Don't worry_." "_You can do so much better_." and his personal favorite, that he had picked up from the answering machine when they had screened a call that happened to be Mark's mother. "_There are other fish in the sea_." But Roger just sighed. Mark wouldn't listen to it now, he'd just say that he wasn't meant to have a girlfriend. All he did was attract the sluts that thought he was a nice guy. It actually hurt Roger to think of Mark alone, just as much as it hurt him to be alone.

"Come on, let's go back to the loft. We can have a better conversation there," Roger offered.

"It's pouring out.." Mark muttered.

Roger rolled his eyes and stood up, pulling his leather jacket on. "So? It's gonna get worse later. Even thunderstorm. Honestly, I'd rather not get hit by lightning and die before this virus kills me," he stated. "Besides, isn't walking in the rain while you're depressed the in thing to do or something?"

Roger was happy to see a small smile climb onto Mark's face, even if he did try to hide it from the rockstar. "It's a start.." Roger thought as the two of them left the café.

The walk back to the loft was silent and wet. Mark just hung his head and looked up when they crossed the street. Roger just shook his head and was the one to lead the way inside. Once inside Roger just walked over and flopped down onto the couch and looked up at Mark, who just grunted and sat on the silver table that held so much history. They sat there in silence for what seemed like forever, long enough for Roger to start to doze off on the couch. He was finally brought back to the loft as Mark began to speak.

"I'm sorry..." he said.

Roger smiled and stood up, walking over to his friend. "It's fine. You're hurt. I've just never seen you be that..." Roger started, unable to find the word to finish his sentence.

"Bitchy?" Mark offered.

"Yeah. I think bitchy just about covers it," Roger agreed with a laugh.

Mark just sighed. "I know.. I'm never like that. But I'm just so sick of it. So sick of being the good guy.." he started. "The one that attracts all the whores. I'm surprised I don't have some god awful STD or something..." His eyes widened and he looked at Roger. "Oh my god.. I didn't mean it like that Rog..."

Roger just sighed and rolled his eyes at Mark. This time he wasn't hurt, he had learned to live with the fact he had AIDS. And he knew that Mark would never use that against him. He just hopped up onto the table next to him and laughed a bit.

"It's okay," he said. "But damn Mark. You are all over the place today."

"Yeah I know," Mark said, fidgeting with the scarf that hung around his neck.

"It might be weird to say.. but I like seeing you like this Mark. Broken and all in pieces..." Roger began to say, smiling as Mark just looked down at the floor, his fingers playing with the fabric of the scarf. "...I think I like the idea of putting you back together instead of you doing that to me. You need to be the vunerable one for once."

Mark gave a fake laugh, sighing a bit. "That's the thing... I'm supposed to be the strong one. I need to make sure you're okay.." he said, his voice breaking a bit.

Roger let a small laugh escape his lips as he turned Mark to face him, making sure they made eye contact. And Roger couldn't put off the feeling in the back of his mind, the spark he thought he felt when their eyes met. Roger wanted to ignore the feeling like he had for all those years, even though April and Mimi. The spark that was always there between them. One he spoke of once before with Mark, that they both dismissed as something stupid. They were just desperate. Now it wasn't like that, they weren't desperate. As much as Roger was sad that Mark was sad.. he was greatful that what's-her-name had left him. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed before speaking.

"So what? You aren't the strong one for once. You don't always have to look after me," he said. "Besides.. I'm the big strong one here.. I should be protecting you. Virus or not."

Mark's eyes never left Roger's. His mind was now swimming with thoughts, the filmmaker knew where this conversation was going. And now.. he didn't feel like he could stay on the same side of the fence he was on before. He knew there was a connection there.. but.. he was scared. Scared of losing someone else, scared that Roger wouldn't fully commit. "Virus.. heh."

"Heh," was all Mark said.

""Heh" what?"

"Heh.. we're having this conversation again... without even speaking," Mark said.

"You felt it then? The spark...?" Roger asked, unsure.

Mark smirked, and laughed uneasily. "Maybe.." he murmured softly.

Roger smiled his cocky smile, finally happy he broke through to Mark. Mark raised an eyebrow at Roger's expression and Roger simply hopped off the table and began to cross back over to the couch. Before he could take two steps he felt Mark's hand wrap around his arm and pull him close. So close their faces nearly touched. But just not close enough to fulfill the closeness they wanted. The two men searched each other's faces, looking for some unspoken emotions. Looking for something to say. Anything to break the silence.

"_To hell with it_," Roger thought to himself, and his mouth was on Mark's.

Mark's eyes flew wide open at the shock of the kiss, but just out of the fact it happened so quick. No words, no nothing. Just Roger's lips on Mark's. The feeling of perfection. Mark let his eyes fall close as he returned the kiss, his tongue darting out to gently cross over Roger's lips. But Roger did not give in to the gentle touch and pulled away. Mark groaned softly, pouting a bit.

"You know. You look cute like that," Roger said smirking.

"No I don't."

"Yes. You do."

"God. I give up."

Roger leaned in and kissed Mark's forehead. "So easily? Man, you really have gone to pieces Marky."

"Yeah well.. you caught me by surprise!" Mark argued.

Roger smirked. "Hah. Like you didn't like that? If I recall..." he said, leaning in so close that their lips nearly touched again, his voice soft and sexy now. "You were the one trying to push the kiss further."

Mark tried to hide the blush in his cheeks. But he failed horribly. "So?" he snapped.

"Says the filmmaker who ever denyed a spark between us," Roger comment.

"Shut up."

"Man, you are cute when you're like this."

Mark hopped up off the table, much more confident and wrapped his arms around Roger's neck. His eyes searching Roger's face.

"You won't leave me right..?" Mark asked. "I mean.. like everyone else has. You'll only leave when you have to?"

Roger kissed the top of Mark's head, a reassuring smile on his face. "I promise."

That's all Mark needed before he pressed his lips against Roger's as they fell onto the couch. Mark then figured, before his mind went hazy from the kiss the two shared, that Roger needed to pick up the pieces more often.


End file.
